Elliana’s Birth Story (5.5 months later)



I haven’t fully written out Elliana’s birth story because I’ve just been so busy with both the girls, but while it’s some what fresh in my memory I thought I’d better; before I forget little details:

I was scheduled for an induction on the 7th of March. I could have come in a day before or a day after that but I chose the 7th because I knew she would come out the next day. I remember the night I had to say goodbye to Chloe as an only child, and the thought alone scared me more than ever. I was sad to have been separated from her. Never in her whole (almost two years at the time) life, had I spent the night away from her. I’m not sure she cared, or even knew what was going on to be honest. She was taken care of by my sister, so she was probably happier than ever. Erick and I ate dinner with my family; we had tacos (delish!), then we were on our way.

We were scheduled to come into the hospital at 8 pm, but the doors were locked, so we had to come through the emergency to walk upstairs. Walking up with all our pillows and blankets, I was excited and so nervous at the same time. My labor with Chloe hadn’t gone supppper well, so I had reoccurring memories that this time would be the same, if not, worse.

We got checked into the room we would be “sleeping” in and I made a face time call to home to see my little baby before she was no longer my little baby..  I gave all my information and IVs settled in and was ready to start this whole process. I kept trying to have a positive mind and tell myself that “I HAVE to do all of this in order to see her” and I wanted her BAAAD. I was so excited I couldn’t sleep, and I hadn’t felt too bad of contractions yet. I shut off the TV around midnight. As I laid there, trying to tell myself to get some rest for the big day ahead of me, I just couldn’t for some reason. Every time I would start to fall into a nice sleep, I had to pee. And every time I got up to pee, the monitors that were kept on me would move and lose Ellies heartbeat. And every time the monitors lost her heart beat, the nurses had to come in and re adjust me. It was a never-ending process… except when it ended.

Around 4 am I was having contractions that I could NOT sleep through.. at this moment, I knew it was time to ask for that epidural. My contractions were less than a minute apart and I couldn’t catch my breath between them.. The nurses had me gather my belongings and we started to head down the hall. Mind you the hallway is only a couple of feet and it took me a couple of minutes to make it.

I watched the sun rise that morning, knowing this would be the day my sweet little would be coming into the world.

Even though I asked for my epidural at 4:15ish, I didn’t get it until almost 9am. I had to be re set up into a different room, and the anesthesiologist took FORFUCKINGEVER.. When he did come into the room, I was in the worst pain I have ever felt. He asked me to sit up and lean over a pillow on my bedside table, Erick held my hands and the needle was inserted. During my heavy breathing while having contractions, this needle felt like it was going slower than ever. I didn’t feel the cold sensation I was hoping for and I knew something wasn’t right. the Dr. said to give it a couple of minutes.. But I remember the feeling from last time, and it was not it. I waited a couple of minutes and nothing happened, still the worst pains ever. I asked for him to come back in and mentioned that I had been sitting lopsided. I asked to remove the extra pillow under one of my butt cheeks. He stuck me again with a needle as the contractions got worse and everything felt more painful. I squeezed Erick’s arms harder than I thought I ever could. This time.. THIS TIME, I knew it had worked because I felt the sensation I was hoping for the last time. While all of this was happening, Erick’s mom was on her way to this hospital. To be honest, I didn’t want anyone in the room but I thought (later finding out she has) she had never seen one of her grandchildren born. I’m glad she was there though. I was feeling great at this time, the nurses told me to get some rest. Mind you, I hadn’t eaten since dinner the previous night around 6pm and I can hear my stomach growling but could barely feel it. I asked Erick to put “Jack Johnson” Pandora on so I could relax.. I was so exhausted that every time I started to fall into a deep sleep, I thought that I was going to die… Literally, I thought that I was seeing the light through my eyelids and that my body was so peaceful, I was floating. Erick told me I was talking crazy, but after those couple of times, I was too scared to fall asleep. I had to see my baby before I “went”. The nurses kept coming in to check how far along i was, and every time they told me “one more hour”. Finally, the hours were up and it was time for her to come, only one problem., she wasn’t facing the right way. She WAS head down but facing the window. Maybe she just wanted a view when she came out.. So, the stuck a peanut shaped exercise ball between my thighs until I was ready to start pushing.

The nurse that was with me this whole morning had just gotten off her lunch, RIGHT before I started pushing. And my midwife was nowhere to be found, until my second push, she came running into the room. I was laying on my side when I delivered Ellie, I guess there wasn’t much time to turn over to my back. Erick held one of my legs up and I felt all her crevasses come out as I pushed. I felt her head, then her shoulders, then her hips and finally she just sort of fell out the rest of the way. I honestly just felt a bunch of pressure this time around. With Chloe, I felt every stretch and tear, EVERYTHING; like I didn’t even get the epidural. Both times, I felt like giving up, like all the pushes weren’t doing anything and they would never come out. And both times, the moment I felt like it was the end of my strength, they came out seconds later. I cried my eyes out when she was here. She was purple and gross… but that would never stop me from kissing her all over. I looked at her face, her hands, her legs and her little toes. I created this, I grew this and I delivered this. This beautiful human. At this moment, I was a mother of two beautiful little girls. I remember saying “Thank you, God!” and just remembering how lucky I am to have had no serious complications. The first set of visitors other than Erick’s mom, was big sister Chloe, my sister, dad and step-mom. I think Chloe was more excited to see her grandma and her little sister, but when Erick’s mom brought Chloe over to see Ellie. Chloe’s first reaction was “awwwwwh” as she sat Chloe next to me on the bed. This feeling is still so indescribable.. These are my daughters, such a weird feeling.

After I gave birth this time, I bled more than the first time and felt more crampy; but overall I felt better. I wasn’t sore or anything really, I could walk and I took a shower. I did keep bleeding though, so they were a little concerned. I ended up not needed a blood transfusion that they mentioned a couple of times. All in all this was a great delivery. I was in labor for 18 hours and pushed for 10 mins… At 2:49 PM, weighing in at 8 pounds and 6 ounces, we finally got to meet Elliana Moné face to face. I am so in love with this little baby, I was once so scared to love.




 To all my past 

I was raised to never burn bridges. When people hurt you: forgive, move on and be happier than before. Everything happens for a reason. People come in your life and they might leave.. Everyone is a lesson or a blessing, sometimes both. I believe if you truly are happier and have moved on, the past can resurface without being bitter about it. We have learned something from each and every person who has crossed our paths. I say sometimes I have erased people from my past, but in reality, they are a part of me. They made me who I am, the woman I carry myself as and the mother I pry myself on being. I have learned so many things from each person who has entered and even left my current life. My heart is so big and full and my memories are always resurfacing. The good, the bad, the ugly, and the educational. 

Erick has initials of his ex girlfriend on his shoulder.. and I could actually care less. Surprisingly. I used to get mad about stuff like that but since I met Erick, and have birthed two children during our relationship, I’ve realized there’s more important things to worry about. Your tattoo of your ex isn’t at the top of my priorities. I’m actually more happy than anything that he has it. It shows he has loved someone THAT much to get them tattooed on him. He has had other lovers and I’m fully aware of that, I love his past, his present and his future. He has been shaped into the person he is because of his past, and if we ever split, I have helped make him the man he is today. The man I fell for, love and will always love, no matter what transpires between us in the future.

I am so incredibly happy with my family, my life, I have a cool job, and I have a great support system of friends.. I have no bitterness or grudges towards ANYONE. I’ve had SO MANY temporary friends, without knowing they’d be gone one day. I’ve had past relationships I resented. As I grow, get more mature and just reflect on life, I’ve realized so much energy is taken out on all this bullshit that’s not even relevant in our current lives. I ultimately hope and pray that everyone in my past is happy. With me, without me. I just hope you’re smiling most of the time and you are blessed. Also, a huge THANK YOU to those who shaped me into the person I am. Friends, family, ex’s, their new significant others, their kids (if they got em), acquaintances… I hope you’re all happy in the end. 

The loss of a child, my greatest fear.. 

I stumble across stories of parents losing their children on a weekly basis, it feels like. I thank the Lord everyday for the wonderful lives I have helped him create. I can’t even fathom what it would feel like to lose a child. Its my greatest fear. I think about it often. I think how different and how empty my life would be. Would I store their clothes in the attic or keep them out to remind me of the sweet memories? Would I have more children? Would I hang up even more pictures than I already have? Would I cry everyday for the rest of my life? How would me losing one child affect the way I parent? Its questions like these that I ask myself all the time. I don’t want to think about losing either of them, but these thoughts I cannot control. I cry every time I think too deeply about it, which is regularly. When I see these posts I just want to hug the mother, knowing it won’t do much. Those hugs won’t solve a broken heart. When I see these posts I go hug my own children, squeezing them just a little tighter, because those hugs make them feel safe. When I see these posts I think of my parents and if they had these reoccurring thoughts. Maybe that’s why they were so protective over things I thought little of. When I see these posts I am reminded that I anger too quickly over nothing. How these parents wish their kids were unrolling all of the toilet paper, hopping into the bath with all their clothes on, and waking them up in the middle of the night. How these parents long to hear their babies voice say “mama mama mama” over and over, even if it is just to say “hi!”. I think about how blessed I am to wake up to my childrens smiles every day. Although, nothing is guaranteed. I worry about this again and again: If they’re breathing while sleeping, If they’d get a sudden illness, or if something were to happen to them by another person. Would someone break in and steal them, even off the street or from the park. If someone was texting and driving and crashed into their side of the car… I hate thinking about death, even more so my own child’s. See, the hardest part for me as a parent is to love something so so much, and have it taken away. The responsibility of being a parent, keeping this little human safe, even from things you can’t control. That’s the hardest part for me. To just imagine losing someone I love more than anything, more than life itself, breaks my heart. When these thoughts flood my mind I am reminded to hug them a little longer, kiss them even when they think they’re too old, and tell them how much I love them as many times as I can each day. My heart goes out to all parents who have lost a little one. I cannot imagine, but then again, I am. 


Night and Day.. Those are my kids names apparently.

I was blessed with not one, but two beautiful, healthy & smart daughters. I often wonder why I got to be their mom & why I am so fortunate to have them in my life.  They’re both healthy, can move their bodies, can hear, can see, they don’t have and brain problems or abnormalities. I am forever grateful for these two peanuts. I remember I was so nervous to have Chloe and become a mother, then I felt like I mastered it. This time around I was even more nervous to become a mother AGAIN, and I feel like we’re getting along fine. I still can’t believe those words: “I have two daughters”. It seems so unreal at times. Like, is this really my life? Time is going by much quicker than it did the first time and I can’t seem to get a grasp on how quick the days fly by me. My days are filled with constant cries, diapers on diapers on diapers (I forgot how often newborns go to the bathroom), and I’m nursing so much I think my body believes I have twins to feed.

At first, I thought Ellie was easier than Chloe was because she ate so well. Chloe had a hard time latching, so I was bottle feeding my milk to her. All the cleaning, pumping and work I put into making just ONE bottle seemed like an endless job but Chloe was a champ at sleeping. She didn’t cluster feed and that ONE bottle got her a good couple hours of sleep for the both of us. It was nice. Where as, Ellie likes to eat every hour or so. I love that she eats so well, its just the sleeping we’ve yet to master. I had sleep trained Chloe and by the time she was 6 weeks, she was sleeping through the night. This time around Ellie sleeps, the longest stretches, 5 hours at a time. Which is great, don’t get me wrong, but she is super colicky. She cries for about the same amount of time she sleeps.. 5 hours… Straight sometimes. I feel like I’ve gotten so used to it, and then I remember I can’t even hear my own thoughts. I feel bad for her, because obviously something is wrong but everything I try never seems to work. I’ve read that colic babies just cry and cry and nothing will work to soothe them sometimes. I’ve fed, changed, rocked, sang to, swaddled, played music for and sat in silence with her. Nothing. Sometimes I feel defeated and like I am not doing my job as a mother.. but to be honest, I am with her all day, every day, this constant cry is all I hear some days. I think a lot of people, scratch that, I KNOW a lot of people would have broken down more times and given up by now. Colic is no joke. I have prayed and prayed numerous times for God to give me patience before I had Ellie, and I think this is my test. I am trying to remain calm and patient with her, because she is just a baby and nothing is her fault. At times, I just want to put her back in my belly but when all the screaming is over; I just stare at her in awe again. I am so impressed by the amount of love a mother has. There are times when you want to put the baby down and just run out. Times when you just want someone else to hold  your screaming child while you go to the store and forget what is at home. I know I wouldn’t ever be able to do those things because its more stressful to leave them than it is to just deal with it. I know I am not alone though, I have friends who have had babies harder than mine, from what I’ve heard. Although, when you are holding this little human you created and dreamt about, you never imagined them being like this and it makes it that much harder. I know that this hard time will be over soon and this is just a bump in the road. Its not going to last forever and on the spectrum these are minor things that could be wrong with my kids.

I don’t think its talked about often, when a mother feels defeated. How someone so little can have such a HUGE impact on your life, your feelings and emotions. I have cried a little each and every day since these colic episodes started. I think that’s pretty normal. I don’t know how else to handle it. You have two crying kids, why not join the party. I mean you’ve been sitting inside with these monsters day after day because you never know when the next episode will start or what will trigger it. You’ve been up since 1 or 2 am with your colic baby and up again at 7 with your toddler.. I think you deserve a moment to cry to yourself, even if you’re not by yourself.


To the “man” who walked away from my daughter..

A lot of people have asked me about Chloe’s biological father and I’m more than open with the subject.. Erick and I have talked about this many times and how we will introduce the idea to Chloe about how she came into the world.. We are going to keep it a topic of common discussion. She will not find out in some letter years later, or think it was kept a secret. We are going to be honest with her about it. Any questions, concerns or comments she may have in the future. I think it is important for her to know the cultures behind who she is and why she looks the way she does, different than myself or Erick. I think it’s important to be open with her about it from a young age. I KNOW she will always look at Erick as her father, because he is. I KNOW she will be grateful for the life we have provided her with, together. I have a knot in my stomach thinking that Chloe will question it all at some point, I’m trying to brace myself for the day.. The day when she wonders why someone would leave her, why someone wouldn’t want to be a parent and what she did wrong. My answer will be “Absolutely nothing. You did nothing wrong. God gave us the life we are dealt and it will all make sense one day”.

To the “man” who walked away from my daughter,

Thank you! Thank you for giving me the best blessing I could ever imagine, even if you didn’t think so at the time. Thank you for leaving, thank you for choosing to take yourself out of her life.. She doesn’t need someone who is a part time parent, or someone who is questionable about her existence. She doesn’t need someone who isn’t going to stick around and have her best interest at heart. She doesn’t need someone who doesn’t love her. I am twice the parent you would have ever been to her, and love her ten times more than you can comprehend. I am enough parent for the both of us.  One day she will wonder about you and I will only tell her good things because I will not ruin her idea of what you might be. If she wants to find out on her own, that’s her choice.. She may not even want to meet you, and I’ll still be okay with that. When I look at her I don’t see you, I see me. I see a human that I created, grew and raised. I see a wonderful baby, girl, and woman. I see all she will aspire to be and how much she has changed me for the better. I see someone who doesn’t need you. I see all her potential in life and who she will turn out to be. Honest, compassionate, funny, wise, humble, and responsible. The exact opposite of you. I see someone who learns from your mistakes and for that I am thankful. I am not resentful towards you, I am grateful. I have the best daughter in the world thanks to you. And thanks to you, I don’t have to share her. I don’t have to worry about what you guys are doing on your time.. If she is being fed, loved or ignored. I don’t have to worry about if your leaving her with someone to go smoke weed or hangout with your friends. I don’t have to miss her on any holidays because we are joined at the hip. I don’t have to miss any birthdays because I get them all! I am beyond blessed, while you think she is a burden. She may be nothing to you, but to me she is EVERYTHING! I have a wonderful family, a man that loves me & his daughter. We are expecting another and our family will only grow from there. So thank you for (at the time) keeping me in the mindset that I could be a single mother & made the right choice in keeping her in every aspect. I don’t know what my life would be if I didn’t meet you, get pregnant years later and get left with a baby growing in my stomach. The best bumps in the road lead to the best life I could imagine. So once again, thank you for knowing you were too childish and selfish to be her father, she will never be the one who missed out, you will be.   img_1183img_0992img_1228

These are a few of my favorite things

-all the pros, of all the seasons-

If you know me, you know I am not a summer person. I hate the heat and how many people are running about. I hate that you can’t really cuddle because of the stickiness and sweat the bodies create. I hate having to put loads of sunscreen on and feel oily. I hate going to the park and the entire thing is on fire so my little one can’t even play. I hate the fact that everyone is in shorts, particularly myself. However, I can think of a few things that make me happy about the summer..

I love waking up to the birds chirping and singing me songs. I love the natural rays of sunlight that beam through my window to wake me peacefully. I do however, love the smell of sunscreen and watching my daughters skin turn its darker complexion in just one afternoons play. I love the family gatherings we have under the shady spots in the backyard that are surrounded by greenery. The food we cook and the great company of friends who are like family. I love the soft breezes that pass every so often, that move the wind chimes while giving you a break from the radiant sun. I love the sound of oldies and Dave Matthew’s band on the speakers as we sip our refreshing drinks and share laughs. I love when the sun goes down, how its still warm outside and we can make s’mores on the fire pit under the stars.

Even though all of these things sound great… When this time of the year is coming to an end, thats where I really get my kicks from. There is just something about the leaves falling from the trees that excites me and makes me anxious for the year to be over. I love being cozy, in sweats and multiple blankets. I love to cuddle and feel warm physically and mentally. I love making snacks and watching movies all day with the blinds up as the rain falls outside. I can see it, but I can’t feel it. I love turning my fireplace on and lighting all my candles at once and feeling like I’m safe from all the cold. I love doing arts and crafts inside as I can smell my freshly baked dessert finishing up in the oven. I love lazy days. I love gulping warm drinks and feeling them make all your insides warm at the same time. I love to puddle jump and dive into a pile of leaves to see all the dark colors of autumn disperse. The burnt oranges, bright yellows, browns and dark reds all come together. I love to bundle up in beanies, cozy socks, scarfs and layers. I love the anticipation of all the holidays coming: Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years. The gifts, gatherings and yummy food. I love pumpkin picking, and watching my little human trick-or-treat. I love decorating the tree and sitting in the dark with nothing but the Christmas tree lights on. I love holiday music and how happy people are (unless you work in retail, like myself). I love that people come home for the holidays, rather leave for summer vacations. I also love the fact that when all these fun things are over, I get to start planning a shindig for my daughters birthday in a short couple of months..

What I hate about all of these things, even my favorites are: how fast all these feelings come and go (and the rain when I have to leave the house).

“The days are long, but the years a short.”  -Gretchen Rubin

In conclusion, things that I hope happen every year in our house are wonderful things. I hope that we always have laughing kids running a muck in our house. Playing together with their imaginations. I hope that they can explore outside for hours as they play “restaurant” with the plants and make “salads”. I hope we have a fridge full of artwork done by little hands. I hope that we always have cuddles, even in the warm seasons. I hope we do fun things like family game night, until their old enough to love them without being forced to. Or, going to the movies when its hot or cold outside. I hope to have dates with my daughters to do girly things. And, dates with my boys to teach them to be gentlemen. I hope to have the sweetest aroma of laundry being done throughout the whole house. I hope that we have smiling faces everyday.  I hope that our kids grow to appreciate what they have and to find appreciation in what they normally wouldn’t. My wish is that my kids are always happy, healthy and humble. I want them to put God first, and everything else will fall in to place, just how it is supposed to.



Overworked moms

How many of you moms feel like you’re constantly working? All day, everyday?  From eyes open to eyes closed? I DO! PICK ME! You may think that Erick has a wife who cooks, cleans and does it all.. Well he does, but not one who is quiet about it. I voice my opinion of equality all the time. I only work at night except Monday mornings so I feel like my whole day is cleaning, then go to work and coming home just to pick up where I left off. I love to have a clean home, everything has a place and every place is a home to something. I know there are fathers who live like myself as well. I heard on The Real that moms do an average over 100 odd little tasks a day… It might be a little more than that. While you think you’re hard at work, which I’m not doubting you are, we are at home:

  • Waking up children, or rather, them waking us up, at the wee hours of the night/morning.
  • Making breakfast, feed the little babes, try not to forget to feed ourselves.
  • Take a shower while the child is in the shower with us, in their own personal tub.
  • Put the littles down for the naps that they fight constantly.
  • Strip bed sheets (adult and kids beds).
  • This one is just me: Empty the pool water and make way for clean water to play in.
  • Empty dishwasher and drying rack, just to load them back up again and hand wash all the pots and pans.
  • Sweep kitchen & bathroom.
  • Mop both of those rooms.
  • Wipe down all the counter tops
  • Put a load in the washer, and fold the remaining 4 clean baskets that have been sitting in the corner of the bedroom for days.
  • Pick up toys every 30 mins so that I don’t trip and die on a toy boat.
  • Make baby lunch. Maybe a snack for myself. Maybe.
  • Attempt to do some school work.
  • Hold child while attempting to do school work.
  • Get a cup of now cold coffee that was made at the time of task number 2.

This is all stuff I did yesterday. This doesn’t even include if the day has a Dr. apt or some other plans. People ask me why I’m so tired, my kid sleeps through the night… Whoopty-F***ing-Do. I may have a child who sleeps through the night, but she is 1. Every and anything she can get her hands on, its either broken, dirty or misplaced. Its no easy job to be a slave to your child. But you do all these “jobs” so your family has a clean and beautiful home to be proud of. I don’t wash my sheets everyday so that list isn’t an everyday thing but its replaced with some other task, I’m sure. I just want to say if you are the parent who isn’t making this list your daily routine, then give them a break. Take the kid and let them get out of the house or enjoy a night with friends. I cannot tell you how much I enjoy being a mother, but in order for me to be my best for my little human, I need to take care of myself. She deserves a mommy who is relaxed and calm and had some alone time. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. If you never leave your kids side you’ll never get to experience the “run with open arms” hug. Its the best. But like I said, it’s all worth it. Everything.